


there's a storm you're starting now

by ohmcgee



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5226404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So,” Canary says. “While you two were doing your squabbling married couple bit, we figured out how to destroy this thing. Now, would you maybe like to save the world or do you want to stay here and keep flirting with each other?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's a storm you're starting now

“Your hair,” Bruce says and Hal is so startled by him actually _talking_ to him that he nearly drops the burrito he just took out of the microwave. “You’ve done something different with it.”

“Yep,” Hal says, staring at Bruce like snakes or locusts are going to come crawling out of his mouth next. “It’s uh, I think they call it a haircut.”

“It suits you,” Bruce says and fills his cup with coffee, then clears his throat. “Very, ah, practical.”

Hal just stands there in the Watchtower’s tiny kitchen for so long after Bruce walks out that his burrito has gone cold by the time he tries to eat it again. 

“Eugh,” he says and pops it back in the microwave, staring at the corridor Bruce had just walked out of. “ _Weirdo._ ”

 

: : :

 

The next time he sees Bruce it’s at some black tie affair Wayne Enterprises has thrown, only Bruce suspects foul play (when doesn’t he) and he’s invited the whole League to be there, to eat caviar and drink wine and mingle with the over-privileged masses in case all hell breaks loose. 

They’re under strict orders not to socialize with each other, so as to not give any snooping types any ideas about who they are, which is why Hal nearly chokes on his canape when Bruce comes up behind him and asks him if he’s enjoying himself. 

“Sure,” Hal says, wiping crumbs off his mouth. “I fit _right_ in with this crowd.”

Bruce smirks against the rim of his glass. “Sylvia Haversham seems to have taken an interest in you.”

“The broad with the fox around her neck?” Hal says and Bruce nods. “Yeah, she took an interest all right. All over my backside.”

“Well,” Bruce says, swirling the wine around in his glass before stealing a shameless glance at Hal’s ass. “She always did love a man who can fill out a suit.”

“Uh huh, yeah that’s me,” Hal rolls his eyes. He knows how ridiculous he looks compared to these people, shit, compared to Bruce. “I know just how to fill out a rented suit, let me tell ya.”

Bruce gives him a funny look and looks like he’s about to open his mouth to say something and that, of course, is when all hell decides it is time to break loose. 

Ninja repel from the ceiling and take out the entire dessert table. 

“Goddammit,” Hal says. “I had my eye on those little lemon tarts.”

“Alfred’s are better,” Bruce says as they slip away to find someplace to change. “If we live, I’ll bring you a dozen.”

“Deal,” Hal says and slides the ring on. 

 

: : :

 

Hal actually does get those tarts, in a box shoved at him after Bruce breaks into his apartment and demands he help him. 

“Jesus, _what_?” Hal says. It’s three in the fucking morning and he’s still in his boxers, for christ’s sake. He’s also still kind of hungover from his night out with Oliver and Barry, but he’s not about to tell Bruce that. 

“There’s some strange sort of crystal growing in Gotham. I predict alien in origin. It’s causing anyone who comes in contact with it to become extremely aggressive. Get your ring.”

“Sleep,” Hal mutters as he grabs his ring off the nightstand and slips it on. “Humans need it. I know _you’re_ not one of them, but I am.”

“You can sleep in the car,” Bruce says. “On the way.”

“Super,” Hal yawns. “Right before I have to evict some kind of wacky alien crystal from your shitty town. Sounds like a blast.”

“You’re cranky,” Bruce points out when he gets behind the wheel.

“Yeah well, you’re...crankier,” Hal replies lamely. “Fuck, I’m so tired I can’t even insult you properly. Just wake me when you need to use my superfly powers, okay?”

Bruce snorts. “Go to sleep, Lantern.”

 

: : :

 

Turns out, the crystal wasn’t alien at all, but some kind of weird experiment by one of Bruce’s weird rogues. It is a bit tricky to extract without being affected by whatever signal it’s sending off and he and Bruce end up coming to blows a few times in the process, but it’s not like it’s nothing they haven’t done before. Finally, they destroy it and everything goes back to normal, or normal for Gotham anyway. 

“Thank you,” Bruce says before Hal flies off. “For the assistance. We could --”

“Don’t mention it,” Hal yawns. “Anytime. Just, not anytime soon. I’m going home and not leaving my bed for a _week._ ”

“Right,” Bruce says. “I could drive you, if you aren’t fit for flying.”

“Nah,” Hal says. “I’m good. See ya around, Spooky.”

It doesn’t occur to him until he wakes up eighteen hours later how fucking _weird_ that was. Bruce hates asking for help, has definitely never asked _him_ for help. And Hal’s ninety-nine percent sure that was something he could’ve handled on his own. 

“Weirdo,” Hal mutters and pads into the kitchen, grabbing the first thing he sees and shoving it in his mouth.

“Huh,” he says, licking lemon curd off his finger. “These _are_ better.”

 

: : :

 

Two weeks later they’re screaming at each other across the table on the Watchtower. Hal’s red in the face and Bruce probably is too underneath that _stupid_ cowl and there’s a fucking sentient asteroid headed for earth that Hal could _do_ something about if Bruce would just let him fucking _do it._

“You are not going up against that thing,” Bruce says. “You have no idea what it’s capable of and --”

“That’s why we find out!” Hal shouts. “My ring can get a reading and send it right back here and then you’ll --.”

“And then what?” Bruce shouts back. “What happens to _you_? You’re too important to the League for me to let you go on some goddamn suicide mission.”

“ _Let_ me?” Hal snaps. “Sorry Bruce, but my orders come from Oa, not some freak in a giant bat costume with a martyr complex. This thing coming at us? It’s alien. That’s my fucking job so let me _do it_.”

“No.”

“ _Aaaagh!_ ” Hal screams and pulls his hair out, which is exactly when Zatanna walks in and mutters _ecnelis_ at both of them. 

“So,” Canary says, following behind her. “While you two were doing your squabbling married couple bit, we figured out how to destroy this thing. Now, would you maybe like to save the world or do you want to stay here and keep flirting with each other?”

Bruce scowls. Hal opens his mouth and tries to say something, but no sound comes out.

“Sorry,” Zatanna says and quickly mutters the incantation to let them speak again. 

“-- _not flirting,_ ” Hal blurts out. 

Dinah rolls her eyes. “Come on, boys,” she says. “It’s time to earn our keep.”

 

: : : 

 

“Oh fuck,” Hal says, trying to figure out how he can clutch his head and his stomach at the same time. “I’m dying. I’m fucking dying.”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “I told you not to drink that.”

“Fuck you,” Hal groans. “I’ve had Korugarian ale before. I thought --”

“Mm,” Bruce says. “That was your first mistake. Thinking.”

“I really hate you, you know,” Hal says, even as he leans up against Bruce so that he doesn’t fall on his face again. “You’re...mean. Grumpy.” He pokes Bruce’s arms. “Muscley.” 

“Sober,” Bruce points out.

“Smug,” Hal says. “Can you believe Dinah thought we were flirting?” He laughs and okay, that wasn’t the greatest of ideas, his head may have just cracked open. 

“Hn,” Bruce mutters. “As if you would notice.”

“Uh,” Hal says. “Yes? That is generally something I would notice.”

“I have evidence to the contrary.”

“What?” Hal asks, stopping Bruce with a hand to his chest. “I mean. What?”

Bruce sighs. “Nothing, keep walking. You’re almost to your room.”

“Uh, nope,” Hal says, eyeing Bruce suspiciously. “You’re being more cryptic than usual, which I didn't actually think was possible.”

“You’re drunk,” Bruce says. “Maybe you’re imagining it.”

“Maybe,” Hal says, considering it. “Why’re you being so nice to me?”

“You grabbed _me_ , Lantern,” Bruce says tiredly. 

“You asked me to help you,” Hal counters. “In your city. That you let no one in.”

“Yes and I nearly beat you to a pulp in the process.”

Hal shrugs. “You complimented my _hair_.”

Bruce’s mouth thins out into a straight line. “It had been getting too long. I thought it might affect your peripheral vision, being in your eyes like that constantly.”

“You brought me lemon tarts,” Hal says poking Bruce in the chest. “And liked my ass in a suit. Oh my god, you _have_ been flirting with me!”

Bruce sighs and scrubs his hand over the stubble on his jaw. “For some time now, yes.”

Hal collapses into laughter against Bruce’s shoulder. “Wow,” he says. “You really fucking suck at that.”

“I’m usually pretty decent at it,” Bruce says, stiffening against him. 

“Yeah,” Hal says. “When you’re doing the playboy thing with ditzy silicone blondes. You knew that horseshit wouldn’t work on me.”

“It’s come to my attention,” Bruce says. “That I have no idea what will work on you.”

Hal snorts. “I’m not a mission, Bats, ” he says. “I don’t require recon and research and planning. I’m actually pretty easy.”

“Is that so,” Bruce hums and Hal feels Bruce’s fingers brush over the short hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“Very,” Hal says and winds his fingers in Bruce’s collar, dragging him down to press their mouths together. He makes a pleased sound against Bruce’s mouth when Bruce opens him up with his tongue and his other hand slips around Hal’s waist, pulling them flush together. 

“How easy?” Bruce rumbles next to Hal’s ear and Hal shudders, reaches behind him and punches in his passcode to open the door to his room. 

“Let’s find out,” he says and drags Bruce inside.


End file.
